


Too Much of Not Enough

by LuluMinati



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: A good though not quite fetishistic amount of cum, All aboard the Painslut V Train, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bruises, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Facials, He just doesn't use it here, Incest, M/M, Magical Cockring, Marathon Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Threesome - M/M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest, V has a safeword
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 07:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuluMinati/pseuds/LuluMinati
Summary: V was exhausted. The kind of exhausted that made it near impossible to move, let alone stand. He wasn’t really trying to move now—he wasn’t sure he could even if he wanted to. He wasn’t really holding himself up either. It was Dante sitting behind him with arms hooked around him that kept V almost sitting upright. His head rolled forward limply, too heavy for his neck to hold up. He’d either been held up by someone else or lying on his back for a while now, even before his strength had been slowly fucked out of him. He was exhausted from straining against the hands holding him in place, from writhing in something he could no longer call pleasure, from screaming, from clenching, from tensing, from chasing after a climax that had just barely eluded him for far, far too long.ORV can't cum because of a curse, and Dante and Nero spend the better part of the day fucking the poor thing into a drooling, senseless mess.





	Too Much of Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I only have one more week of everything I've written not technically being non-canon, so I'm gonna run with it.
> 
> -This was originally hornily tweeted out by me in a much shorter thread one day when I was feeling particularly inspired by the fact that I had no extra batteries and none of my rechargeable vibrators were charged. Also I'm missing like half the charging cables. But hey, a story came out of it, so it was worth it.
> 
> -Dante and Nero do have that lovely superhuman stamina because they’re demons (because I said so) but let’s just say they have nice-but-still-totally-humanly-possible sized dicks for this, or poor V wouldn’t survive.
> 
> -It's not explicitly written in the fic, but they have a safeword. It isn't used.

V was cumming again, technically. In fact, he’d cum several times that night already, but they were all pitiful little things, barely lasting a few seconds and never offering more than a mere fleeting impression of pleasure before ending, crashing him back to tired, hopeless _need_. There was no feeling of release, no feeling of finality from them. A thin band sat snugly around the base of his cock, glowing an eerie purple from a curse woven into it. In this case, it was a curse that made it impossible for the wearer to orgasm properly—Of course Dante had done all he could to get his hands on it (and V’s cock in it). Even after hours of use, it was still effective, making sad little molehills out of what should have been mountains. V was left stumbling over each one, tired, over-sensitive, and utterly unsatisfied.

V was _exhausted._ The kind of exhausted that made it near impossible to move, let alone stand. He wasn’t really trying to move now—he wasn’t sure he could even if he wanted to. He wasn’t really holding himself up either. It was Dante sitting behind him with arms hooked around him that kept V almost sitting upright. His head rolled forward limply, too heavy for his neck to hold up. He’d either been held up by someone else or lying on his back for a while now, even before his strength had been slowly fucked out of him. He was exhausted from straining against the hands holding him in place, from writhing in something he could no longer call pleasure, from screaming, from clenching, from tensing, from chasing after a climax that had _just barely_ eluded him for far, far too long.

Despite his weariness, he couldn’t quite stop either. He couldn’t stop because all it took for his body to _need_ to cum again was another brush of lips against his bruised, over-sensitive skin. His body knew that an orgasm is _just almost there_ , just barely out of reach. It was a carrot on a stick leading him to nothing but more frustration.

It was a state Dante and Nero were all too happy to take advantage of.

He’d lost track of how many times Dante and Nero had passed him back and forth, taking turns with him. Taking their time with him. As tired and overworked as he was, he could barely do much more than just _endure_ there between them, trembling and crying as they fucked and filled him over and over.

Gentle was not the right word for how they were treating him, not at all. Cautious, perhaps. As cautious as they ever get, anyway. They could have torn him in pieces before he had time to blink. They could have ripped into him, clawing, biting, tearing into flesh, snapping him like a matchstick—but they would never do that. Not to _him_ . They didn’t want to break him. What they did now only seemed gentle in comparison to how they savagely fucked each other without holding back. For him, they held back for him as much as they could. But they were not _gentle._ They were _relentless._

They wanted to use their toy as long as possible, not break it right away.

He wasn’t sure if he was forming real words anymore. He wanted to say “please”, but it was too hard to push what was left of his voice through his drooling mouth. His slack jaw felt impossibly heavy. He wanted to beg and plead for this to just end already. He needed this to be done. He needed to feel _done_. But the strange glow from the ring around his cock hadn’t faded at all, and the other two hunters looked as hungry as ever.

While Dante held him from behind, Nero held his legs apart under his knees and fucked him. Even as cautious as Dante and Nero were, there were still bruises around V’s knees and on his thighs. Dark marks in the shape of hand-prints and bite-marks sat on his skin beside his numerous tattoos, making filthy Rorschach splotches where there were once only clean, swirling lines.

Dante reached up to tangle his fingers in V’s hair and pulled his head back like he was a marionette. A living sex doll. He swiped a long tongue against V’s cheek, lapping up his tears. Nero was fond of nipping lightly at V’s lips and tongue, sucking until their kisses tasted like copper. Nero leaned forward to do just that, but it could hardly be called a kiss now. V couldn’t do much more than let his mouth hang open while Nero lapped and bit and sucked at what he could reach, still thrusting into him with a steady, unrelenting rhythm.

He was close again. Or at least, he _would have_ been close again. He was close to being farther than he’d ever been. Dante moved behind him, lifting V up between himself and Nero as Nero’s hands moved from V’s legs to his hips to help hold him. He kept his cock buried in V as they positioned him like a rag doll.

V’s head fell forward again onto Nero’s shoulder, no doubt wiping some drool and tears on his skin. Dante shifted again behind him, planting kisses along the back of his neck and into his hair as he lined himself up to…No. They wouldn’t…?

V gasped and tiredly tried to flail, jerking uselessly against the two part-demons as Dante pushed the head of his cock against V’s asshole. He was already quite loose, worked open from hours of fucking, not to mention a day of teasing and stretching in preparation before that, but Dante and Nero were _not small_ . He sobbed into Nero’s neck as Dante slowly worked his thick cock in beside Nero’s, forcing V to fit around them. It was too much. Too full, too fast, after too long. Too much, too much, _too muchtoomuchtoomuch._ But that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he felt like he was being split open or that he was so tired he couldn’t hold his own head up.

It didn't matter. _He_ didn’t matter. Right now, he was just a toy; a hole for them to use as they pleased.

And right now they certainly seemed pleased. Nero let out a loud moan as his uncle’s cock slid against his, surrounded by V still struggling to fit around them both. Dante leaned over to kiss Nero over V’s shoulder as they rubbed against each other, seemingly more interested in each other than the man they were fucking wide open. Gravity and two cocks fucking him at once forced the cum they’d already pumped into him back out, making it dribble out of him and down over their balls and thighs. Judging from the way they moaned into their mouths as they fucked him, they either didn’t notice, or didn't care. Or they just _liked_ it. Soon they settled into a steady rhythm, pumping up into him as hard as they could without actually breaking him. Cautious. Not gentle.

Somehow, despite being exhausted, bitten, bruised, and fucked longer and spread open farther than he’d ever been, V knew it wouldn’t be enough. It would always be far too much, and not nearly enough. Pain and maddening flickers of pleasure spread through his gut up his spine, mingling with his aching skin and tired muscles. They were going to fuck him until he passed out, he realized. Or maybe they’d just keep going, holding him just as they were now, filling his unconscious body with their cum until even they were finally satisfied.

V felt like he shouldn’t have liked that thought as much as he did.

Nero bit and sucked another addition to the spreading mass of marks along V’s neck and shoulders, thrusting just a touch harder, hips moving just a bit faster. He was close. It all felt more or less the same to V now, just friction and pressure and sensitive nerves somehow both numbed and screeching from too much sensation for too long. It still felt that way when Nero sank into him as far as he could, grunting and panting as he spurted his load deep inside of V’s ass again, only for it to slowly drip back out moments later. Dante followed soon after, fingers digging into the worst of the bruises around V’s hips as he ground him down against his twitching cock.

V was a sniveling mess of sweat, tears, and cum when they carefully laid him on his back.

V thought he’d already screamed his voice away a while ago, but a thin, ragged shriek still escaped when a hot, wet mouth surrounded his too-sensitive cock, pushing him to another pitiful not-orgasm as fingers slid easily into his sloppy, gaping hole.

While that hot, tortuous mouth swallowed him down, the fingers working into him turned into a fist. V might have surprised—maybe even impressed—at how easily he’d taken it any other time, but right now it only added to his suffering. He both needed to stop and needed much more. He tried to squirm, to move away, but only managed to squeeze pathetically around the entire hand inside him. Dante made a noise like a chuckle around V’s cock, dragging another voiceless, sandpaper scream from his shredded throat.

Relief and frustration crashed into him as Dante sits up, finally releasing V from his mouth. Of course, the small moment of supposed mercy was completely shattered a moment later. What little strength V had left was spent hoarsely screaming, crying, weakly writhing, and _still_ pathetically trying to cum when Dante’s mouth is replaced by Nero’s fist.

The fist was vibrating. _Hard_. There was nothing sweet about this.

It just hurt. It hurt like he’d been fucked too long, too hard. It hurt like his cock had already offered every drop it could while giving nothing for hours. It hurt like an entire fist just slid into him like it was nothing and worked him like he was nothing more than a puppet. A toy.

And yet. “Please. Please. Please. Pleasepleaseplease...”

In response, Nero turned up the dial on his Sweet Surrender.

V couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think or move or do anything other than _exist_ in this new level of hell, this realm of too much and not enough.

“P-please! Pleasepleee...Oh fuck, oh fuck _oh fuck_ , ohmygod…” Nero slowly stroked up and down the shaft of V’s cock, his hand still forcefully buzzing around him like a small jackhammer. What was left of his ragged voice climbed to a high, whining pitch. “Oh please ohplease ohpleaseohplease _ohgodpleasestop!_ Pleasesto...stop. Ple-ple... _ple-ase. Ple...ase._ ”

They did not stop. Neither they, nor his own body would give him release or respite.

The last thing V remembered was sobbing in hopelessness as much as overstimulation as Nero leaned over to kiss him tenderly on his chest.

* * *

 

V woke up alone, in darkness. He hurt everywhere. He was pretty sure his _hair_ ached. Even tired, groggy, and sore as he was, he knew he didn’t hurt nearly as much as he should have. Evidently, Dante and Nero had cleaned him up a bit, probably spread some healing salve on his worst injuries, and left him alone to rest. He wasn’t hard anymore. He wasn’t really anything but tired and sore in a deep, aching way he’d never felt before.

This had certainly been a new experience for him.

The only sources of light in the room were from a glowing digital clock that read 11:50 p.m., from the moon slipping in through slightly parted curtains, and a soft purple glow from…

Oh right. _That_ thing. That terrible thing that only very powerful, sadistic, and horny sorcerer could have made so well. It was just a thin band only barely tight enough to stay in place without slipping. It didn’t really do anything to squeeze and keep him hard like a proper cock ring, it just happened to _make cumming totally impossible._ One entire day, he’d agreed to wear the cursed thing. It must have been nearly 24 hours by now. Dante first put it on him the night before but then left him alone, instead letting them all settle in to sleep.

V’s dreams that night were filled with half-formed visions of sex and tears. Looking back, he wasn’t sure if they were caused by the ring’s curse, or if his dreams had prophesied its effects.

Everything in him wanted to take the damned thing off right now, but he was sure they’d find out...And if this is what they did when he was keeping his promise, he didn’t really want to find out what they’d do to him if he broke it.

The footsteps V heard just outside of the bedroom door made him wonder briefly if the others could sense when he was awake. The idea was thrown away a moment later as Dante carefully opened the door as quietly as possible before poking his head in to check on his tired companion. Dante’s concern might have been sweet if it weren’t for the fact that V’s current state _was his fault._ Dante didn’t look the least bit apologetic. His eyes almost glowed pale blue in the dark. He smiled warmly when they met V’s now-opened ones.

That sunshine-warm wolf’s smile could charm any sheep he wanted, and Dante knew it. It had certainly worked on V, after all.

Dante walked over and sat on the edge of the bed beside V, picking up a glass of water and some painkillers left beside the clock on the nightstand. The glass even had a bending straw so V could drink from it without having to sit up. Even drinking seemed too strenuous for his spent body. Dante cradled his head with one hand and held the water for him with the other as he swallowed down the offered pills and drank as much as he could. Still so thoughtful. _Still so very at fault for this._ V opened his mouth to speak as Dante set his head down on the pillow, but Dante pressed a finger to his lips. “Your voice, remember?” Oh yes, there was that. And whose fault was that now? Before V could croak out the question, Dante replaced his finger with his mouth. Soft, smooth lips met V’s dry, split ones.

V knew Nero had joined them when he felt another dip on the mattress while Dante continued to kiss him. They’re movements were soft, gentle, and completely at odds with the hungry look they gave him. V’s fleeting notion of mercy from them for the rest of the night was crushed by two sets of near-glowing blue eyes.

He thought they might just kill him here. They were going to fuck him to death and he couldn’t lift a finger to stop them. But what a way to go.

They were almost unbearably gentle touching him now. Which was just as well, V could barely move. He was still so sore and so, so tired.

He’s hard the second Nero’s mouth reaches a nipple, sucking the small nub of flesh he’d so cruelly squeezed between metal fingers earlier. It still ached.

V’s voiceless whimpers came out as harsh whispers instead. He couldn’t do this. Not again. He couldn’t even really handle it before, but now he’s far too out of strength and out of his mind for this. He can’t. _He can’t._ He was already silently sobbing as a hand—he had no idea whose—oh-so-carefully cupped his balls.

But Dante and Nero were just as relentless with their gentle, not-so-soothing touches as they’d been with their unyielding marathon-fucking hours before. They kissed and caressed feverish, aching skin for a while, paying no mind to broken protests, pausing only when hiccuped sobbing threatened to become hyperventilating.

They both moved their mouths to his cock, just barely sucking his balls, licking and planting soft, messy kisses along the shaft. It was still too much. Even after rest, it was still too much.

But then something changed. Something foreign that he hadn’t even noticed unwound itself deep in his gut, ripping one last bit of pained pleasure down through his arched spine and up from curled toes.

He had one tiny, almost out-of-body moment of clarity as his eyes, wide open in something like shock, saw _that terrible fucking ring_ sitting on the nightstand beside the half-empty glass of water and the clock that now read 12:01 a.m.

Then he came harder and longer than he had in his life, spilling himself all over Dante and Nero’s faces.

He passed out again before he could really appreciate the view.

* * *

 

Dante and Nero were spoiling him rotten now. Not only was V willing to let them, he thought they absolutely _deserved_ to have to wait on him today, since his current state of pain and exhaustion _was entirely their fault_.

He could tell the two of them felt genuinely guilty today, though. Dante, ever-eager to pamper either V or Nero (when not fucking them senseless) took V’s inability to refuse the help and ran with it, helping to feed, bathe, and clothe him. He even carried him from room to room, tucking him into a nest of pillows and blankets when he needed to rest (which was pretty much always). It was complete comfort overkill, and V had no intention of stopping him, just this once.

For his part, Nero cooked him food, insisting _“No, Dante, we are not feeding him more fucking pizza!”_ and kept him entertained when he wasn’t sleeping. Nero snuggled in close and read out loud to him, something no one had done since he was a child. It felt oddly intimate to V.

They shared the Polaroid they’d taken of their faces right after V passed out the night before. He wasn’t one for taking many pictures, but suddenly felt like he might start.

Sometime after a long, hot bath, they both helped massage more of the healing salve they’d found onto his aching body. It smelled like mint, vanilla, and lemon, and tingled a bit as it worked, making fresh cuts scab over and bruises begin to fade.

“You didn’t think we’d have done all that without _something_ to help you heal up afterwards, did you?” Nero said as he _very_ carefully slid a salve-covered finger into V’s tender ass. The tingling inside him felt delightful, almost drowning out the aching from their treatment the day before. Almost.

It felt good enough for V to demand they prop him up on his cozy nest of pillows so he could watch them fuck. For him. Just like he knew they would refuse him the day before, he knew they wouldn’t refuse anything he asked for today. Why not take advantage and watch as Nero buried himself in Dante?

They put on a damn good show too.

Later, as the three of them lay pressed together in bed, V couldn’t help but think that it might have all been worth it. He was comfortably sandwiched between the two other men, about to drift off to sleep yet again, when he gave one last sideways glance to the torturous little magic band still sitting untouched on the nightstand from the night before.

Maybe he wouldn’t throw the damned thing in a fire after all.

 

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> And that was baby's first DMC fic.  
> Hope you're all as pumped for DMC5 as me! :D
> 
> Much thanks to PlayingChello for reading this over for meeeeee <3
> 
> Twitter: @Lulu_Minati I talk about demons fucking, puns, and cats.


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